Date: Sat, 26 Feb 2000 09:06:21 -0800 (PST)
From: Dewey
Subject: For the Love of Pete Ch.3
This story is a work of erotic fiction involving teenage boys partially
based on real people and events. Names have been changed to protect the
guilty as well as the innocent. All the usual rules apply. If you
shouldn't be reading this now, then don't continue on.
Copyright Notice - This story is copyright by the author and the author
retains all rights. You may distribute copy, or print this story
however you like, PROVIDED this copyright notice remains intact and you do not
change the story in any way. Also you may not charge any fee to anyone
to distribute or access this story.
For the Love of Pete
Chapter 3
I hate mornings. I hate having to get out of bed. I hate the cold
floor. I hate having to take a shower first thing. I just hate
mornings. They suck. And today was only Thursday.
My alarm went off at six thirty and as usual I hit the snooze button. I
allowed myself the luxury of being in a nice warm bed and being awake
enough to enjoy it. But I could only hit snooze once and still be
ready to go to school in time. When the alarm went off again, I jumped
out of bed, fished out some underwear from the clean clothes pile and
dropped the ones I had on into the dirty clothes pile. Every teen has a
clean and dirty pile, don't they? The dresser was just for looks,
right?
My room was messy, just like any other thirteen year old boy's. I swore up
and down that if my mom made me clean my room, I'd never be able to find
anything again. She finally told me to just keep my door closed so no one
could see my disaster area. I had everything arranged on the floor so it
was reasonably easy to get to, with a path down the middle so I could get
to my bed. Perfect.
Finding my robe my parents had gotten me for my last birthday in the "Worn
but clean enough" pile, I wrapped it around me and tied the belt. I kind of
like it, because it allows me to hide my morning erection, so I didn't have
to endure any of my brat sisters comments.
I finished up in the bathroom with plenty of time to spare as always, and
as always, I found Dawn drumming her fingers on her arm impatiently waiting
for me to get out of there.
"S 'bout time," she muttered as she swept past me. I ignored her and went
to my room to get dressed.
Today was going to be a great day for me. It was the first day after Pete
had told me he loved me (did he really say that?). He was going to be at
school and I couldn't wait to see him. I wanted to look good for him. I
chose some faded blue jeans and a white Nike t-shirt that had a blue swoosh
across the back.
It was one of my favorite ways to dress - jeans and a t-shirt. I had
dressed the same way from when I first started choosing my own clothes
until I got into college. Now I am more comfortable, believe it or not, in
a shirt and tie. But again, I digress (I do that a lot, don't I?).
Anyhow, after I was dressed. I went out to the kitchen to get my breakfast.
Mom had cooked the usual scrambled eggs and Sizzlean with buttered toast. I
wolfed it down like the bottomless pit I was. I even paused long enough to
inhale a large glass of OJ and wipe my mouth with a paper napkin (NO, I
didn't eat it!).
Just as I had finished, Dawn came out of the bathroom looking not much
better than when she had went in. I told her as much and earned a rather
derogatory nickname for my efforts. Ah, the joys of younger siblings.
I went back into the bathroom and finished up my grooming, brushing my
teeth and combing my hair, making what little there was on top stand up.
Yet another thing I hated about myself. My hair was so straight that you
could use it as a straight edge in geometry or something. And it stuck out
at all angles. Combine that with the cowlicks my dad gave me, I just
looked terrible with longer hair. I kept the sides buzzed and the top
short.
I examined my face. I had a high forehead, small nose and green eyes that
changed with my mood and what I was wearing. I had seen them pale to
almost gray and deepen to nearly brown. Pete said my eyes were
expressive. I thought it was weird. My mouth was normal, although I
thought my lips were too fat. I also thought my eyes were too wide, my nose
too pointed, etc. etc.
I found out later that I wasn't the only kid that worried about how they
looked. Just about everybody I've talked to that I grew up with had the
same fears and concerns. The only thing that mad me different from them,
really, was that I was gay.
I quickly completed my morning rituals, grabbed my jacket and headed for
the door. Just before I opened it, my mom called.
"Brian, here is your lunch money. You forgot again, didn't you?" With a
knowing smile, she handed me two dollars, enough to get a school lunch -if
you call that food- milk, and nothing else. "Bri, I don't like you skipping
lunch. I know you do so don't deny it. It's not good for a growing boy to
starve himself. So make sure to you eat, okay? I worry about you."
What the hell was going on here? Who are you and what have you done with
that cold uncaring woman that I know as my mom? I was confused. She
wasn't acting normal. Something didn't seem right. She NEVER expressed
concern about me like this. "Are you okay, mom? You don't seem yourself
this morning."
"I'm fine. Same as I was yesterday. Why do you ask?"
"No reason. Must be me." I beat a hasty retreat rather than go into why I
asked. My mom seemed to sense my mood and didn't make an issue of it. I
couldn't figure it out. Something had changed in her, and for the better
as far as I was concerned. What could have happened to bring about this
change? I was sure I could figure it out in time. So, I would just wait
and see. If this was just a reaction because she felt sorry about how she
acted last night, things would go back to normal soon enough. But if she
had changed... Well, probably not.
I flew to school. I couldn't wait to see Pete. His bus usually go in ten
minutes or so before class started. I went out to where the bus drops off
and waited for him. As his bus pulled in, I stood there, suddenly
nervous. Did he really say what I thought I had heard? Did he really love
me, or just like me as a friend? All of these doubts started to cloud my
head, ruining my happy mood. It only took seconds. By the time Pete got
off the bus I was my usual, dour self. But only until he smiled at me.
"Hi Bri! Howzit going?" I melted on the spot. My knees started shaking
and I am sure that if I had tried to speak it would have been a squeak
instead of words. Oh man, he was the most perfect thing I had ever seen. I
couldn't help staring at him. For a long time. A very long time. Then I
noticed he was giving me a funny look and it brought me back to my senses.
"Doing great," I said in a loud voice, trying to cover for the people I
knew were watching our actions. I lowered my voice to a near whisper so
only he could hear me. "Now that you are here." I offered him my hand. It
was the only thing I could think of that wouldn't let the world know we
were gay. He looked surprised, but took my hand anyway and shook. I tried
to communicate everything to him in that one, simple gesture. I squeezed
his hand to the point of pain, I am sure. I looked him in the eyes,
silently telling him how much I loved him. What he felt that morning I
don't know. I never asked him. But since he stayed with me, I guess the
feeling was mutual.
The first warning bell went off. Class would start in ten minutes. We
ambled into the hallway and toward his locker, which was closer than mine.
It happened to be by Brent's locker, also. He wasn't there, fortunately.
As Pete tried to open his locker, he kept giving me side long glances. He
was making me nervous.
He finally got his locker open after three tries, and I said something I
had heard Chris's older brother say after he got back from boot camp.
"Five percent rule."
Pete looked confused. "Huh?"
"Yeah. You have to be five percent smarter than the equipment you are
operating." I grinned at him to soften any insult he may take, but I
shouldn't have worried.
"Hey!" He took a swing at me and connected with my shoulder. It wasn't in
anger, but in fun. It still hurt though. I rubbed my shoulder and started
giving him a hurt look. "You deserved it." Again with the grin.
I grinned back. "Yeah, I did. But did you have to wind up so much? I have
to use this arm today."
He got an impish smile and said he would find a way to make it up to me.
My heart started racing and I started getting hard. Oh man, I hated it when
that happened. Especially in school.
"Gotta get my books," I said, and almost sprinted to my locker. I heard
Pete laughing behind me. I had no doubt he knew why I had run off.
Reaching my locker, I opened it up with no problem and got my books out for
English. We probably wouldn't use it as this was the last full week of
class. Most teachers kind of slacked off at this point in the year.
As I reached back in to get my algebra book, my locker door slammed into my
wrist, leaving it feeling like it had been crushed. I cried out in pain and
looked to see Brent laughing at me. He had seen me and couldn't resist
coming over and tormenting me. His cronies were around him, all of them
snickering. I tried to ignore them as I blocked open my locker door with
my body, grabbed my book and folder, and then closed the door.
As I walked away, I heard Brent say something to his cohorts that set them
off laughing, but I pretended not to hear them. Selective hearing is
another ability that serves me in good stead. I sighed. Maybe it was
going to be a normal day after all.
When I walked into English, I took my seat quickly. Pete was already in
there and was reading a book. I don't remember what it was. I looked at my
wrist and decided it wasn't broken after all, but I could see blood seeping
into my skin, kind of like a fresh hickey. I would have bruise. And it did
hurt. But as with everything else that had ever happened, I would survive.
Brent walked into class and I just glared at him, giving him my most
hateful look I could muster. He just smirked and turned his back to me,
sitting down. He had dismissed me from his thoughts, like throwing out the
trash. I trembled with impotent fury.
"You okay, Bri? You look pissed." Pete. I glanced at him and felt my
anger lessen. He had a look of genuine concern on his face. Furrowed brow,
pursed lips and all. He was more than beautiful. How could one stay angry
when beholding perfection?
"I'm fine," I said as I shook my head in disbelief, "I just wish Brent
would get his." Pete smiled and nodded in agreement.
The third bell went off. I must have missed the second one somehow. Class
began, and Mr. Young gave us a writing assignment. We were to write about
how we saw ourselves and our lives at this moment. It was a five hundred
word essay, due by end of class on Friday. I groaned audibly. How many
ways can you say that you are a nobody with no life going nowhere fast?
That was only like ten words. Only 490 to go, I guess. Lets see how many
words I can find that mean feeble. I'd define each one and use it in a
sentence like a vocabulary lesson.
I knew that wouldn't cut it so I got to work with serious intent to lie my
ass off and make up a good story. I finished the assignment before class
ended forty minutes later. I was quick. School was not a problem for me.
It wasn't challenging, and I had no reason to excel. My parents were happy
with my 3.2 GPA, even though I could have done much better had they
motivated me.
My essay delineated how my life was fine, that I was excited to get out of
school for the summer and I was looking forward to the eighth grade (big
lie, that one). I wrote about how I would play baseball all summer and read
my books, maybe learn to do something new. It wasn't a great paper, but I
was sure I would get at least a B grade. Good enough.
The bell signaled the end of class. With Mr. Young's reminder when the
assignment was due, I headed to math class and Pete headed off to Social
Studies. Math was boring as usual. Mr. Fordyce (for eyes, what ever) was
trying to give us a head start on next year, but no one was paying
attention. He just went on and on about trigonometry and how useful it is
in the real world but no one believed him (He is right, you know - It is
useful in the real world for any number of applications from chemistry to
physics to architecture).
After forever, the bell rang, freeing us from Mr. Monotone. I had had
trouble staying awake in that class for some reason. Looking back, I can
see why. Now it was off to Mr. Soiseth and Band.
Band was one of my favorite classes, after biology and computers. I played
trumpet. I usually played third part, and was usually the only trumpet not
playing first. Everyone else in my section thought it was a status symbol
to play first. I just liked playing harmony and making good sound. Chris
was also in the class playing trumpet, and he was the true first chair. He
had earned it. I respected his ability and talent. Had he chosen, I think
he could have gone professional. As it was, he went to West Point and is a
Major in the army just twelve years later.
Of course, Pete was here too, but he sat with the trombones and tuba.
As for the other people in the band, about half of the trumpet section were
pack members, which made this class difficult. But the pleasure I took in
the music made up for it.
Mr. Soiseth on the other hand was an erratic person with a volatile temper.
When you made a mistake, he was patient enough unless you made the same
mistake again. It is an easy thing to do. He was also a fanatic about
controlling the class. Talking was not allowed, and if you talked you got
detention. Simple. Detention was held at lunch with Mr. Morin, the biology
teacher. He was cool, but detention was a punishment, so he was strict
then.
Soiseth was unpredictable. Last year he had picked up a kid in the grade
ahead of us and slammed him into the wall because he wouldn't stop talking.
How he kept his job, I have no idea. A lot of parents pulled their kids
out of band after that. We lost about half the band.
Today we weren't doing much in there anyway except turning in all our
music. He had to inventory before the year was over, so it turned into more
of a study hall until he got to you. Pete and I sat next to each other
today, where normally we would be separated. Since we couldn't talk, we had
to write notes back and forth. Soiseth had no problems with that as long
as we were silent.
-I missed you last night, Bri.
-Missed you too. Almost got myself grounded, tho.
-How?
-The school called and told her I skipped. I told her I had a good reason
but she didn't listen to me. She grounded me for two weeks.
-How'd you get out of it?
-My dad came home and asked me what happened. I told him you needed a
friend to talk to. He asked me what we talked about -
Pete started to get a panicked look on his face as I wrote that, but I
motioned it was not a problem.
- and I told him you asked me not to tell. He asked if you were on drugs
or if your parents were beating you or something else serious. I told him
no and that was it.
-Wow. Close call. I don't know what I will say when my mom asks me. She
got a call too, but she hasn't said anything. I'm worried my dad'll find
out.
I asked him "Why?" with my face.
-He'll probably beat the hell out of me.
-He do that often?
-Only when I deserve it. Every time I get into REAL trouble.
I paused, thinking about what he'd written. I am not sure what it was that
was setting off alarm bells in my head, but they were there none the less.
-What does he do when he beats the hell out of you?
-Just the belt to my butt. It hurts for a while, but it's no big deal.-
Pete grinned as he wrote.
- I usually do deserve it. It's what I get for breaking the rules. You
know how it goes...
Yeah, I knew how it went. But why did he get the belt and all I got was a
swat? It was unfair and made me uncomfortable. And scared, I realized.
Scared that Pete would get hurt by Joe. His father was a tough guy and
really wanted to make sure Pete could take life "like a man". Pete had
written something while I had been thinking and he had to tap the notebook
a couple of times to get my attention.
-Did you ask if you could stay over this weekend?
-NO! I forgot with all of the stuff that went on last night. I'll call mom
and ask her at lunch. 'K?
-OK
I started writing out some symbols on the paper. When we first started
hanging out together, codes were a big deal around class. We had written
up one and figured out how to use it different ways by changing around some
of the symbols, kind of telling each other what the code key was. The long
and short of it was that only certain symbols represented letters while the
others were just there to make the message look longer and more complex.
Since we only had one set of symbols to remember, it was easy to use and we
could decipher messages with out a written key. It really was quite
ingenious for a couple of eleven year olds.
I wrote deliberately and unhurriedly. I wanted to make sure that all the
symbols were right.
-I LOVE YOU
His face was so expressive! I could actually see his eyes soften and his
face relax into a broad smile.
-I L U 2
"Pete Jameson, bring your music up." Shit! Trust Soiseth to break up the
moment. Pete smiled apologetically and headed off to the podium. I looked
again at what Pete had written in code.
-I L U 2
That small acknowledgement meant more to me at that moment than anything
else in my world. He actually did love me and wanted to be with me. I just
stared at the paper until Pete finished handing in his music. I felt like
I was in a dream. I still have that notebook packed away somewhere. I have
to find it.
-You OK, Bri?
-OK. Just thinking.
-About?
Back to the code.
-US, MY M AND D, YOUR M AND D, WHAT WE WILL TELL THEM.
Man, I was getting a cramp in my hand. The code wasn't designed for the
ease of drawing, and we had written a lot in this conversation.
-We won't. (No code here, Pete seemed to feel it wasn't needed)
-WHAT IF WE GET CAUGHT?
-WE'LL BE VERY CAREFUL.
I must have still had a dubious expression on my face, because he tapped
the page again for emphasis. Then he scrawled some more.
-DON'T WORRY.
-I'll try.
He underlined what he had written earlier at the top of the page.
I L U 2
He gave me an encouraging slight smile and moved his leg against mine as he
slouched into the chair he was in. We sat in a companionable silence until
the end of class like that, not writing anymore (I couldn't have anyway
since I had just about crippled my hand with that damn code).
The bell rang, we got up and headed for our classes. He had math and I had
Social Studies. We split up as we reached my locker. He gave me a
friendly pat on the shoulder as he went on toward his locker. I dialed in
the combination and opened the door, and grabbed my book and folder. As I
shut the door, I turned to go to class and ran straight into Randy, one of
Brent's accomplices. My nose was about even with the center of his chest.
He was the strongest guy in my grade, even stronger than Chris.
"Watch where you're going, dick wad!" He shoved me away from him into my
locker. The door handle hit me in the same place as yesterday.
"Sorry," I mumbled, and walked past him. Randy was easier to deal with
then Brent. He didn't go out of his way to pick on me unless Brent was
around him. If I had the misfortune of coming to Randy's attention, he
would usually do as he just did -brush me aside like a minor annoyance and
not pursue me as I tried to make my escape.
Social Studies was the usual boring lecture. This was the only class
besides Biology and Computers that we still had a real lesson in. The book
we used had more material than we could cover in a year. This lesson was
on the Emancipation Proclamation. Mr. Sowa would go on and on about what
it meant at the time (A last ditch effort by a weak president of a country
split by conflict, and the leader of a faction losing the war they were
fighting) and what it's strong and weak points were. I had always had a
special interest in Lincoln for some reason. Mom said we were related to
him through marriage or something. I later served in the Navy on an
aircraft carrier named for him, too, but that is another story. Maybe I'll
tell you about it later, after I get all of this out of my head and on to
virtual paper. There is a lot to tell you about that, let me assure
you(Man, can't I keep on track or what?).
Social Studies ended and lunch began. Ignoring my mother's instructions to
eat, Pete and I headed for the bleacher seats to talk and enjoy the late
morning sun. Neither one of us ate at the cafeteria. This was what we
normally did anyway, and I didn't think anyone would find this strange. We
instead kept the money so we could do stuff later on like buy a soda or
something sweet. The bleachers were technically off limits at lunch, but as
long as the monitors could see us, they let us be. They were empty at the
moment, so we were alone.
"Gawd I am glad that is over. I hate math! Does Fordyce have to make it
so boring? He's enough to make me want to serve burgers for a living." As
usual Pete brought a smile to my face.
"Yeah, I can just see it now. You working on the grill and me mopping
floors. We should be able to afford a cardboard box on those salaries."
"Yeah, but it will be a refrigerator box and it'll be ours."
Here we were, making plans to be together in the future, even if it was in
jest. I knew at that moment that I needed him to be with me always. He
was filling up a void I had had since I can remember. He was my other
half, being able to open me up and read me like an open book. He knew what
I was feeling and thinking, my wants, my dreams. He knew me inside and
out. Well, not physically, yet, but as far as my personality goes, he had
me down cold. I knew without a doubt that if he left me, ever, for any
reason, I would cease to exist. I would die.
We chatted about other things, what we were going to do this weekend, what
flick we wanted to see, where we would ride the dirt bikes he has, normal
everyday teenage boy stuff. We were both scared to mention anything more
personal, because of the fear we both had that someone would overhear us.
The rest of the day took forever. We had the same PE class, but different
classes otherwise. I had Computers, PE, Biology. Pete had Biology, PE,
Computers. PE was a non-dress down day. We had to turn in our locks and
stuff, so we didn't do much other than talk about the usual stuff. Then we
split again for the last class of the day. Overall, today was a good day
for me. I only ran into Brent once. He had four classes with me,
including PE. But since we weren't doing anything physical, he couldn't
hurt me without drawing undue attention to himself.
We met at Pete's locker briefly before he caught the bus. I assured him I
would ask my mom if I could stay over and I'd call him as soon as I had an
answer. I would ride the bus home with him tomorrow if I could go.
I hurried home in my excitement to ask if I could stay over. Mom wasn't
there, however. She must have been still working. I rummaged through the
fridge and found something for my after school snack. It was left over
something or other. Whatever it was, it was better then than it was at
dinner the previous night.
Haven satisfied my hunger for the moment, I headed toward my room out of
habit, and sat on my bed reading my current book. It changed every two or
three days depending on the size and how much I read. I figure I was
reading almost 1000 pages a week at that point(I read almost 500 now).
I heard Dawn come in. I ignored her as much as was possible. But at that
moment, it wasn't possible. She just opened my door with out knocking or
anything. It irritated me to no end when she did that.
"You staying over at your boyfriends this weekend? I wanna have some
friends over and I DON'T want you screwing things up."
I didn't respond, and kept reading like she wasn't there. She was getting
impatient and I didn't care. She would learn how to knock whether she
liked it or not.
"Brian I'm talking to you." I still ignored her. She walked into my room,
pulled down my book and got in my face. "I asked you a ques- Hey!" I had
pushed her away, palm to nose. She wasn't expecting it, so she fell on her
butt. It was hilarious. "What did you do that for!?"
"If you had knocked like I've asked you to, it wouldn't have happened, now
would it? And to answer you question, I will be at Pete's." She got up as
I spoke. I purposely avoided the boyfriend remark, but it did send a chill
down my spine. I hate being paranoid!
"Good You and your BOY-friend have a good time. I'm sure I will since I
won't have to look at you." With that she turned around and started to
leave. Before she could close the door, I couldn't resist a final parting
shot.
"You won't have to look at me, but looking at me is better than having to
look at yourself in the mirror!"
All she could do is make and exasperated sound and slam my door. I
chuckled to myself and made an imaginary mark in the air. Score one for my
side. I went back to my book.
One of the main characters had just realized what it meant to have a
certain color dragon. It was suggested that if you had a green dragon, you
were gay. I had read this book more than thirty times, I swear, and I had
never picked up on that before. I put the book down in my lap and pondered
what the ramifications of that would be. Greens were the most numerous of
all or the colors, making up about 20% of the total population. And since
greens were all female (the only females except the golden queens that
numbered two or three per den), that meant that 20% of the riders were gay.
Over five hundred dragons per den and only the queen riders were
women. That meant over 100 gay guys. I chuckled. What would the world be
like if one out of five guys was gay?
It certainly would make things easier. Being gay wouldn't be looked down
on as much as it is now. But it isn't that way.
My thoughts turned serious as I once again went over what being gay meant
to the way I would lead my life. The more I thought about it, the more
worried I became.
Eventually someone would find out. I would prefer that it wasn't by
catching us doing something, but rather by my telling them. But how could
I tell my parents? I wasn't sure how they would react. My mom might be
okay, but she might completely turn on me too. My dad would kick me out,
of that I was sure. He had never said anything bad against gays, but it
was a feeling I had. And what if it were Pete's mom or dad?
Joe would kill us. He wouldn't be able to handle his only son being a fag.
And if he caught us at a particularly bad time, he'd kill me for turning
his son in to one. Or maybe he'd kill us on general principle. I was
certain that either way, we'd get killed.
Now, Pete's mom would probably just ignore the fact Pete was gay. It would
be too much for her to handle, so she wouldn't acknowledge the fact. I
didn't know if she would protect him from Joe or not. Brenda was very big
on appearances. If no one saw anything wrong, then nothing WAS wrong.
Mom finally go home about five after five. I pounced the moment she walked
in the door.
"Hi, Mom. Pete asked if I could stay over this weekend. Is that okay with
you?" She could sense my excitement, I am sure. And since I didn't get
excited that easily, she smelled a rat.
"Why? What are you guys going to do?"
Thinking quickly, I answered with partial truth.
"We're going riding in the hills. He found some new trails we haven't been
on before. And probably some computer games, too."
"Uh huh," she said, knowing that I had not told her everything, "Well, it's
alright with me. I'll call his mother and make sure she is okay with it."
She walked over to the phone and dialed up Pete's number. He must have
answered the phone and asked for his mom. After the usual "Uh huh's" and
"Okay's" she said goodbye and hung up.
"Ok, you can go, but stay out of trouble, you hear?"
"Me? Trouble? Never." I grinned and hugged her. "Thanks, Mom." Even though
she was a cold calculating bitch at times, she was still my mom.
She smiled indulgently and patted me on my head in a motherly fashion.
Again I wondered what had happened to change her.
Dawn picked this opportunity to stick her head into things.
"Mom, guess what Brian did! He put his hand in my face and pushed me down!
I landed on my bottom!"
I spoke quickly before Mom could react. "I told you that if you had knocked
I would have answered your question!"
Mom peered at the two of us for a moment. "Dawn, did you knock?"
Looking sheepish, she said, "No, but he shoved me!"
"Brian what have I told you about manhandling your sister?"
"She just barged in and didn't knock or anything. She deserved it."
"Did not!"
"Did too."
"Enough. Dawn, you knock from now on, you hear me? And Brian, do not touch
your sister like that again."
Good. A draw. Neither one of us gained the upper hand on that skirmish, so
I guess it was a small victory.
I went to my room and started packing my bag for the weekend. I packed
some a couple of pairs of jeans and some t-shirts, as well as a long
sleeved shirt for riding (have you ever had a branch whip you at thirty
miles and hour?). Lessee. Underwear, socks, boots. That's about it. I'd
grab my book in the morning to read before I went to sleep. I had to read
to fall asleep.
Dinner was uneventful. My dad smiled at me as he came home. Another
unusual occurrence. I felt like I was in an old Twilight Zone episode.
Dawn asked Mom and Dad if she could have friends over tomorrow night and
they said she could, knowing that I wouldn't be around to cause her
problems.
After dinner, the nightly TV ritual. But about 7:30, Dad and Mom asked
Dawn to go watch TV in her room; that they needed to talk to me. My blood
ran cold. I couldn't doe the life of me think of why they wanted to talk
to me now. The skipping incident had been dealt with last night, or so I
thought.
As Dawn pouted and left, my Dad stood and followed her to her room,
ensuring she closed her door.
Coming back, he looked significantly more nervous than he had leaving. My
mom had that nervous look, too. Oh, Fuck! What was going on here? I was in
real trouble this time, I was sure of it.
Dad cleared his throat, and then cleared it again. "Son, we need to
discuss something with you." He shifted in his chair uncomfortably and then
continued.
"Your mom and I haven't been very good to one another. We have been going
to counseling for quite a while now, and we fell it's time to let you and
Dawn know what is going on. We'll talk to Dawn separately, because there
may be things said that she doesn't need to hear. First off, we are NOT
getting a divorce, so put it out of your mind. Secondly, we both owe you
kids and apology, especially you. You have always been our 'perfect little
boy'," he said that as a title, "and you haven't gotten the attention you
deserve from us. For that we are TRULY sorry. You just didn't seem to
have any problems that required our attention. But in our counseling
sessions, we found out that kids need attention even when they aren't in
trouble." He sat forward in his seat, leaning toward me. I looked into
his eyes, and I could tell he was sincere. For the first time in my life,
I held his gaze and didn't feel the need to look away.
"You may be wondering why we are having this conversation now. Last night,
when you told you mom why you skipped, she was angry. All she could see at
that point was -DAWN INTO YOUR ROOM NOW!"
I whipped my head around and saw her back as she fled to her exile. I knew
she wouldn't venture out of her room after a blast like that. How much had
she heard? I returned my attention to Dad.
"All she could see was you disobeying her. After you were in your room, she
thought about what you had said, and waited until I got home and told me
what happened. I asked you about it and I could tell you were telling the
truth. Your mom and I talked it over and she realized she had wronged you.
She apologized. But that isn't why we are here now."
He sat back in his seat again and looked at Mom. I looked back and forth
between them, waiting for one of them to speak. Mom cleared her throat and
spoke.
"You have rarely given us trouble, Brian. You have made mistakes, but
every child does. Our job is to point it out and make sure you learn from
them, so later on you can go out on your own and make your own decisions.
"The decision you made yesterday to skip school and help a friend in need
was the correct decision. You made a choice that his needs outweighed a
few hours of class work. I would have done the same thing." She reached
back and scratched her ear, looking like she wasn't sure what to say next.
A few seconds later she went on.
"As far as I can tell, that is one of the first adult decisions you have
made. It made me realize how fast you are growing up." Her eyes started
to tear and her voice had a tremor in it. Dad put his hand on hers and
squeezed.
"Here's what we are going to do Bri." Dad was looking me in the eyes as he
spoke to me. "You set your own bedtime from now on, unless you abuse
it. You can go where you want when you want within reason, as long as you
tell us where and with whom and what time you will be back. And if you
aren't going to make it back in time, give us a call. If you act as an
adult, we will treat you as an adult.
"All we ask in return for these privileges is that you don't discuss them
with your sister or lord them over her. If she asks you why you can do
something and she can't, send her to one of us and we will deal with it.
Anything else?"
Mom shook her head, and then said, "Just because we choose let you go where
and when you want does not mean that there won't be sometimes we want you
home, okay?"
I nodded. My mind was tumbling over and over trying to make sense of what
was going on. Why this sudden change of events? I was sure that last
nights incident was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back.
"And there are some things we do not want you to do. Drinking, drugs,
those are still off limits, of course. And we prefer that you don't have
sex. If you are thinking about it, we want you to come to us first." Their
tone and expression said this was a demand, not a request.
"I don't drink or do drugs. And I haven't had sex." I hoped they wouldn't
ask if I was considering it. I wasn't sure I could lie to them and get
away with it in these close quarters. Fortunately, they didn't ask.
They nodded. "Any questions, squirter?" Ugh. I hated that nickname. It
came from when I was a baby and peed in my moms face. She used it
unconsciously, and still does even today.
"Why did you guys go to counseling in the first place? I mean, I never
noticed anything going on."
Dad sighed and looked at his feet, almost like he was ashamed of something.
I was curious what could possibly shame my father.
"When I was in the war, and after I got home, all my emotions were bottled
up. I just didn't feel them. Because of that, I haven't been capable of
giving your mom the love she deserves. Or you kids for that matter. It
came to a head about six months ago. Your mom got sick of watching me go
from zero to rage, and told me if I didn't get help to deal with this, She
was going to take you kids and go to your grandparents place. That scared
me enough to get help. And I am still getting help, by the way. Your mom
just joins me once every other week so she can learn how to help me.
Brian, I love you and your mom more than anything in the world. Dawn, too.
All I ask from you is to be there for me when I need you.
"Can you do that? My therapist wants to talk to you too. It's okay to do
that. And it is okay to tell him everything. He can't help me if he
doesn't know the problem."
"I can do it. You sure you're going to stay together?" They both nodded
and my dads grip tightened on my mom's hand.
"We're staying together, if your mom will still have me." He looked at my
mom and she got an exasperated look on her face.
"I told you before. We are together. I will help you, and you'll help me.
That is what the vows meant. We will get through this." I could tell this
was a conversation they had had many times before. "Anything else, Bri?" I
shook my head. "If you have anymore questions, ask us. We will answer as
best we can."
"Thanks for talking to me." I walked over to them and hugged them, first
Mom, then Dad. "And thanks for everything else, too. I'll try not to
disappoint you."
"We know you will, son. Remember we both love you and are proud of you."
I smiled in reply and headed off to my room to finish packing. Today
turned out to be a great day after all.
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